


the art of baking

by clayisforgirls



Series: brownieverse [1]
Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 16:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4356425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clayisforgirls/pseuds/clayisforgirls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's just that Mardy's scared, he's only ever kissed two girls before and never a boy, and none of them have been Andy, Andy, who's his best friend and someone he's had a crush on since the day they met.</p><p> </p><p>Mardy really did live with Andy's family when they were teenagers, so, underage warning I guess. Originally posted in February 2006, and the first part of the brownieverse series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the art of baking

The Roddick house is quiet for once - a clear sign that none of the family are home - and Mardy loves it. As much as he is thankful to Andy's parents for letting him stay, and as much as he likes living with Andy, they're the most high energy family Mardy's ever had the pleasure to meet, and it's tiring for someone who's used to an entirely different lifestyle, who's parents were entirely happy to just let him sit and play video games all evening alone in his room.

He knows his best friend is the worst of all - Andy has too much energy for his own good and Mardy just can't say no to him. He's still not sure how Andy manages to get up at 5.30 every day and still has the energy to never stop moving, always twirling and bouncing from foot to foot as he speaks, playing with hems of shirts and frayed pockets on jeans, he's a mystery that Mardy has yet to unravel, and he's no closer now than he was four years ago when they were first introduced.

But at least for now, Andy's not around to distract him from the task at hand. It's just Mardy and an empty house, one that he has free reign of but still never quite feels at home; even though both Blanche and Jerry tells him that he's part of the family he's still not quite comfortable there. Though, right now he's trying to rectify that by making brownies, and not just any brownies, they're his mother's recipe and in his opinion, the best brownies in the world.

Everything is set out on the counter, it's all been weighed and measured already and Mardy hums to himself as he takes the biggest bowl he can find in the cupboard and adds things from memory, recipe not needed from years of making them with his mom as a kid when he was home sick from school.

It doesn't take long for the mixture in the bowl to resemble brownie mixture, wooden spoon in hand and he does what his mother always used to scold him for - he licks the excess off it because it tastes too good not to have a preview and though he has more patience than all the members of the Roddick family combined, it's not saying much.

The spoon clatters against the counter as he puts it down, searching for the brownie tray he knows is around. He can hear the front door opens and then slam and he knows it has to be Andy because no one else he knows shuts a door with that much force. It's confirmed moments later when the familiar voice shouts, "Mom, I'm home," from the hallway, though there's no response from her because Blanche isn't there.

"In here, Andy," he yells, and there's the sound of bags being discarded in the hallway before he hears the creak of the door as Andy pushes it open further.

"Hey Mar. Where's mom?"

"She went to get groceries. She said she'd be back soon," he replies, pulling the tray out of the cupboard below the sink and placing it on the counter.

"Cool," he says, and hops up onto the counter next to Mardy, feet banging against the side. "Ooh, brownies."

A hand sneaks towards the bowl, hoping for a taste but it's swatted away by Mardy, a grin on his face as he sees Andy pout.

"And, you're so predictable."

"Just one lick?" he whines and Mardy knows he shouldn't look at Andy but does anyway, and there's those puppy-dog eyes, the expression he's perfected through years of use and Mardy's helpless against it and Andy knows.

Bastard.

"One lick," and before he's even finished the sentence Andy's got his fingers in the bowl, sticky brown almost-liquid coating his fingers and dripping on the counter as he lifts them to his mouth. He can't tear his eyes away as the covered finger disappears behind chapped lips and it's only when Andy glances up that he looks away, embarrassed for starting at his best friend like that.

After all, he's managed to hide it for this long; he doesn't want Andy to find out now and the Roddicks to kick him out because he likes their son a little too much and in a way that probably wouldn't be accepted in Boca Raton.

This time the hand that darts out is quicker and Mardy doesn't react in time to stop Andy, fingers yet again covered in brownie mix but he pauses, looking at his fingers and then at Mardy and by the time Mardy's realised what's happening there's a streak of brown down his nose and one on his left cheek, Andy licking the rest off his fingers, though there isn't much left.

If he could see his face now he's sure he'd look somewhere between amused and shocked and utterly dumbfounded, because though he knows as much as anyone that Andy can act like a child, he's never seen him be so… well, childish.

"You've got something on your face," Andy quips, deadpan, though the quirk to his lips belie the tone and Mardy tries not to laugh but he's helpless against the Roddick charm. His fingers grip the counter to stop himself falling as he starts to giggle uncontrollably and it's only a few seconds before Andy joins in, eyes crinkling and head tipped back. Blanche has told them so many times before that when they're together they're hopeless; they either end laughing so much they forget to breathe or in a competition so fierce that it seems like someone should win something from it, though neither ever do.

Hopeless, perhaps, but Mardy knows that he'd be much more miserable without Andy.

"What are you going to do about it?" he challenges after they've both stopped laughing, and he looks up only to find Andy staring at him intently, blue eyes meeting hazel brown and he freezes.

He doesn't move as Andy runs his thumb along the mark he'd made not five minutes ago, until he slips off the counter, sneakers hitting the floor with a thud. He leans towards Mardy until they're so close their lips are almost touching and Mardy can feel his breath speed up, heart racing before Andy tilts his head.

Lips brush over Mardy's cheek before Andy's tongue flicks out, drawing a line where he knows the brownie mixture is smeared and he doesn't realise he's shaking until Andy pulls back, hand cupping his face and a question in his eyes, one he doesn't need to say out loud because he can read Andy like a book.

But, being Andy, he asks it anyway.

"You okay, Mar? I mean… you want this, right? Because I'd hate to have fucked up-"

"I do," he interrupts, "really, I do."

There's clear relief on Andy's face and he knows he must have sounded at least a little convincing, because he really does want this. It's just that Mardy's scared, he's only ever kissed two girls before and never a boy, and none of them have been Andy, Andy, who's his best friend and someone he's had a crush on since the day they met. He's long since realised that it isn't boys he likes - it's just Andy, with deep hazel eyes that are too close together and messy hair that's currently dyed almost black and the energy of a hyperactive toddler and the person he trusts more than anyone else in the whole world.

"Hey, Mar. It's just me," he says, running his fingers through short blonde hair and Mardy unconsciously leans into the touch. "There's- don't be scared."

Long fingers still rest at the nape of his neck and Mardy wonders why he didn't see it before - they've always had moments like this, touches left for seconds too long and glances that neither could tear themselves away from. Andy's other hand finds the hem of his t-shirt, cotton bunched in the palm of his hand and fingers tapping out a beat on the exposed skin. Mardy leans forward just slightly, brushing his lips over Andy's gently, tilting his head.

The kiss is fumbling at first, awkward, Mardy doesn't know what to do with his hands but eventually settles them on Andy's waist, when their noses bump together he can feel Andy chuckle, can feel the vibrations of his chest under his fingers, and he pulls Andy closer so that his back is pressed against the counter, Andy's weight almost entirely leaning on him and yet it's still not close enough.

He wants more.

Andy's tongue flicks against his lips and instinctively he parts them. Andy tastes of the chocolate brownie mixture and vanilla and something undeniably Andy but he doesn't know what. It's his new favourite flavour, chocolate Andy, and he'd let Andy ruin a thousand brownies if they could all end like this, and he thinks it's entirely possible they might as Andy's grip on him is tightened.

Neither of them hear the car pull up in the driveway or the front door opening and shutting, they're solely concentrated on each other until from the hallway Blanche shouts, "Andy, move your schoolbags!" and they spring apart, not wanting her to see them kissing. They both know what it will mean, and it won't be good.

He doesn't even notice Andy's hand diving back into the brownie mixture and then there's another smear on his face, another stripe pained onto his cheek and he half-heartedly bats Andy's hand away, starting to laugh, meeting Andy's eyes with a grin, and Mardy does what he knows best - he retaliates, or at least tries to, Andy play wrestling with him to keep him away.

"Oh, here you two are, I was wondering-" she says as she pokes her head around the door, stopping when she sees the state of her son and his best friend. "Andy, take your bags upstairs and stop drawing on Mardy. Mardy, put the brownies in and then wash up."

"Okay mom," Andy agrees, and she disappears, leaving them alone. It's all the incentive Andy needs to meet Mardy's lips with his own again, just briefly before he whispers, "Meet me upstairs in ten minutes," and then he leaves with a smirk - one Mardy knows well, he knows it means trouble but this time he doesn't care - and he's alone again, just a few seconds of silence before he hears footsteps on the stairs.

Pouring the mixture into the brownie tray is automatic, spoon clunking against the china bowl but he doesn't think of warm brownies and chocolate, instead there's Andy filling his mind, Andy and his whispered promises of things to come.

After the tray is put into the oven, the empty bowls are left on the side for Blanche to find as he heads upstairs.


End file.
